


Conflict and Resolution

by Persiflage



Series: Kissing Prompts [13]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Crying, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Hair-pulling, Kissing, Light Angst, Newly established relationship, PoV Philippa Georgiou, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 18:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19301782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Post-S2: The Terran Emperor discovers there's a lot of push and pull in this new iteration of her relationship with Michael Burnham.





	Conflict and Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my 25 Kissing Prompts self-challenge, for the prompt: _\- one sliding their hand into the other’s hair slowly_.

Michael is standing at her workstation in the lab, her attention focused wholly on her work, so she doesn't notice when Philippa Georgiou, former Terran Emperor, slips into the lab and moves up behind her. Michael startles when Philippa's lips ghost across the nape of her neck, but she recovers quickly enough. 

“Philippa,” she says without looking up.

“How did you know it was me?” she asks, nibbling up the back of Michael's neck. 

She smiles when she answers. “No one else would be likely to do that to me. Besides –” She cuts herself off, and Philippa lifts her mouth from Michael's neck, pressing herself against her back. 

“Besides what?” she asks, wrapping her arms around Michael's torso, just beneath her breasts. 

“Nothing,” Michael responds. 

“Oh.” Philippa realises what Michael was going to say. “She did this to you.” She knows her tone is accusing, and that it is foolish to be angry with her dead counterpart, but she cannot help herself. Too often that much-lauded and dearly loved woman stands between herself and Michael. 

“Philippa,” Michael says regretfully, her hands coming up to clasp her arms. 

“Don't,” she says stiffly, pulling away. 

Michael turns quickly and grabs the Terran’s shoulders. “Philippa, stop it.”

“Why don't you stop?” she demands angrily. “Stop comparing me to that woman. She's dead and I am not!” 

Michael immediately stops struggling with her. “You think I don't know that she's dead?” she demands. “I had to watch her die right in front of me.” Tears shimmer in the young woman's eyes. Then she grabs Philippa and shoves her backwards. “I might just as well demand that you stop looking at me the way she used to! Or that you stop kissing me the way she used to.” A tear spills down her right cheek, and she steps back, swipes at her eyes, then turns her back with clear resolution in her eyes before focusing on her workstation again. 

Philippa feels her heart clench in her chest, angry at herself for making Michael cry. She approaches tentatively. “Michael, I am sorry,” she says sincerely. She touches her on her back, and Michael makes a noise that sounds like a strangled sob.

“Come here,” she says gently, and slides her arm around Michael, turning the young woman towards her. Michael steps into her arms, sobbing quietly. 

“Oh my love,” the Terran says softly. “It's okay, I've got you. I've got you.”

She wraps both arms around Michael, pressing her cheek against her bent head. She shifts so that her left arm is secure across the middle of Michael’s back, while her right arm wraps across her shoulder blades, briefly clasping Michael’s shoulder before she begins rhythmically rubbing it. 

“I’m sorry, Michael,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry. I’m a terrible person.”

“No you’re not,” Michael says. “You just don’t know how to be a nice person.”

The former Emperor can’t help huffing a laugh at that. “Only you, Michael Burnham, would try to find my good side. The goodness of your heart is quite ridiculous. I’m a genocidal monster. A –”

“Philippa, stop,” Michael says, sounding annoyed. “If you were nothing but a monster, a truly terrible person, you wouldn’t care so much that you upset me just now. And don’t expect me to believe this is just because I look like your dead daughter, because I won’t believe you. I doubt your Michael would even be crying in front of you in the first place.”

“True,” Philippa agrees, albeit reluctantly.

Michael dashes her tears away with the back of her hand, then pulls back just far enough to look Philippa in the eyes. “The fact that you’ve spent so much of the last year helping Starfleet – which you utterly despised when you first came here – to battle Control shows you’re not a total monster.”

“I only did it for you,” Philippa says, a little sulkily.

Michael snorts. “Of course you did.” She clasps Philippa’s shoulders. “You’ve grown on me over the last year.”

This time Philippa snorts. “You make me sound like mould.”

Michael laughs and the Terran can’t help leaning in to kiss her. Michael moans, opening her mouth eagerly beneath Philippa’s, and it’s the former Emperor’s turn to moan when Michael slowly slides her hand into Philippa’s hair, tangling her fingers in it, before giving a little tug as she bites down on her lower lip.

“Shut down your computer,” the Terran says with a growl.

“Why?” gasps Michael.

“Because I want to fuck you, but I don’t want to do it here.”

Michael obeys, then Philippa initiates a site-to-site transport to her quarters, where she loses no time at all in tumbling Michael onto her bed, then beginning to strip her out of her uniform. She sheds her own clothing, then climbs onto the bed, on top of Michael, and slides her hand between the young woman’s thighs.

“Put your hand in my hair again,” Philippa orders. “Tug it again.”

Michael smirks, then obeys, and the Terran growls, then shoves two fingers inside her slick heat, eliciting a sharp cry from the young woman.

“Computer, privacy protocol,” she calls, then turns her attention back to Michael. “I’m going to make you scream.”

“Try,” Michael says, her smirk returning. 

“You think I can’t?” Philippa demands.

Michael shrugs. “No one ever has before.”

“No one?” she asks.

“No, not even my Philippa. So try.”

“There’s no trying. There’s only succeeding.”

Her smile is positively wolfish, but Michael just smirks back, challengingly. However, Philippa likes a challenge, and besides, she’s determined to succeed where her counterpart failed.


End file.
